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My Roommate Is a Vampire(69)

Author:Jenna Levine

My stomach sank. I’d wanted him to have enough familiarity with current events that he would be able to vaguely follow conversation. Maybe even make a casual reference to current music, or skyrocketing rents in the city, or the slow, inexorable decline of capitalistic society. If one of those topics happened to come up, of course.

But it sounded like he’d sat up all night on Wikipedia. That hadn’t been my intent at all.

“You didn’t actually need to memorize anything,” I said. “Or really study anything at all.”

His smile slipped. “Oh.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said quickly, hoping I sounded more certain of that than I felt. In truth, I was suddenly very concerned Frederick was about to become an in-the-flesh embodiment of the How do you do, fellow kids? meme. “Always better to be overprepared than underprepared, right?”

He straightened a little at that. “True.”

Worst-case scenario, I told myself as we made our way down the stairs, Sam and Scott would just become further convinced I was living with a weirdo.

* * *

It was immediately obvious that I was not the only one who thought Frederick looked good that night.

Or, at least, it was immediately obvious to me. Frederick, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the effect he had on the people we passed on the street. His eyes seemed to be everywhere all at once as we walked through the frigid late-autumn evening towards the El, studying our surroundings like he expected to be quizzed on everything later—but the appreciative once-overs and open-mouthed stares he earned from passersby went right over his head.

“Is this how you get to work every day?” His voice was full of wonder as we descended into the underground El station. Frederick seemed to be the only person not bundled up like a shapeless potato against the cold. It hadn’t occurred to me before now that he didn’t get cold the way humans did, though in hindsight it probably should have. Either way, the lack of extensive bundling up only enhanced his attractiveness. A group of young women making their way up the stairs stopped mid-conversation and turned to watch him as he and I approached the ticket vestibule.

“Sometimes I take the El to the library, yeah,” I said, clenching my jaw a little and fighting against a wave of irrational jealousy. Everyone was right to think Frederick was hot, of course. I had no business being jealous. I had no claim on him. “Other times I take the bus.”

When we got to the crowded platform, Frederick stared anxiously up at the sign flashing the names and wait times of the different trains that were due to come through the station.

“You really haven’t taken the El before? Or a bus?” I knew he hadn’t, but I still couldn’t fathom someone living in Chicago for any length of time without at least occasionally taking public transportation.

“Never.” His eyes widened when the flashing 4 minutes by the name of the northbound Red Line train changed to 3 minutes. “I haven’t been on any kind of train in over one hundred years and . . . well. It worked differently back then.”

“How do you get around, then?”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug, eyes still on the sign. “I get around in a few different ways. Vampires can run very fast, you know. Also, if necessary, vampires can fly.”

Frederick could freaking fly? That was news to me. I glared at him and said, “You told me you wouldn’t hide anything important anymore.”

“I didn’t think knowing how I got around Chicago was important.” A corner of his mouth ticked up. “I am also joking about being able to fly.”

I rolled my eyes. “Joking, Frederick? Twice in one evening?”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Well. Partially joking.”

I was about to ask what that meant when our train surged into the platform. Everyone except Frederick instinctively stepped back from the platform’s edge as it hurtled into view. I grabbed him by the arm to get him to step away.

The feel of his biceps beneath my fingertips triggered my body’s memory.

It was the first time we had touched since we’d kissed in the kitchen two nights ago. His strong arms pulling me impossibly close. His lips, soft and pliant, brushing against my own.

I shook my head. Now was not the time to dwell on something we hadn’t even talked about since it happened. We were about to get on the Red Line at rush hour—a stressful endeavor even if it wasn’t your first time on public transportation. And Frederick was counting on me to guide him through it.

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